


Token

by starrypawz



Series: Sparks [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Gift Giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrypawz/pseuds/starrypawz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes even a seemingly simple gesture can tie one up in knots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Token

Pierce had an idea.

Normally, when he had ideas he tended to act on them, sometimes not really thinking them through, and despite what people would claim, he’d had a pretty good success rate.  
However, this one, he’d found himself questioning, contemplating, turning it over and over in his mind, much more it seemed than he’d done with any battle plan. 

He was still doing so as he walked through the corridors of the ship, seeking out that section of the cargo hold that Tephernia had essentially taken over to turn into a one woman workshop that probably could’ve rivaled a small droid factory. Pierce paused for a brief moment shaking his head at himself and then placing the tags into the palm of his hand once more, his fingers reaching out the graze the Aurabesh that raised from the surface in the familiar pattern that marked his name, and below that  a few other vital details. Sure even with seemingly omnipresent databases the military still liked a slightly more physical way to keep tabs on their soldiers, just in case.

He half thought about stopping right there, this whole idea was ridiculous, what was he thinking? I mean they were essentially scrap now. Why would she want scrap? Or at least ‘why would she want scrap that she couldn’t pull apart to use in something else?’

He shook his head again, and kept walking, trying not to pay too much attention to just how damned on edge this, this of all blasted things was putting him on edge.   
He stopped in the doorway, whilst most of the cargo hold was arranged in an almost painfully precise fashion (orders from admiral stick-up-his-rear, he was sure) Tephernia’s ‘corner’ although some pieces encroached on the rest of the hold due to their size was a bit more ‘human’, sure it was still organised quite well, almost military standard even but it did look someone actually spent time in there.   
She was at the bench, he couldn’t quite see what but she was prodding at something.   
He closed his hand, took a breath,  
“Hey, Spike,” He called out leaning himself against the frame.  
He watched as she put something down and turned on the stool she was sitting on, absentmindedly tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear before she looked up at him.  
“What?” She sounded less annoyed than she usually did.   
“You busy?” He ignored the part of his mind that was hoping she’d say yes, so he could stop this stupid idea right there and then. Be the best thing, just turn, go pretend it didn’t happen, chuck the tags in the incinerator and be done with it.   
She shrugged, “Not really…”  
“Good….” He spoke, trying to act as though nothing was putting him on edge, “I mean…”  
“You know, you _don’t_ need to have a conversation from the doorway…”   
So he moved, even despite an uncharacteristic moment where he could’ve sworn his feet were trying not to cooperate with him and felt even heavier than they did when he was in Durasteel until he was beside the workbench, he made sure to check before placing his hand down on the edge. He’d made that mistake once, wasn’t in a rush to do it again. One live static field and he’d lost feeling in his fingers for several hours. 

  
“So…” Tephernia’s posture relaxed a bit as she lent back slightly against the bench, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”    
He took a breath, although this time it was mental, and suddenly he felt as though the tags were a Detonite charge primed to blow and that he just had to get them out of his hand quickly, “These. They’re for you.” He tried to sound his usual gruff self but felt as though he spoke too fast as he opened his hand, the tags making a metallic clink against the desk and he made sure not to say anything else, because he was about to say something about ‘not a big deal’ but then that probably would’ve been a lie.

  
“Oh, thanks?.” Although she’d hardly spoken ‘thanks’ when she’d caught him making what he was trying to pass off as not a hasty exit out of the cargo hold.  
She reached over and picked up the gift. Then she nearly dropped them, and then she sat there for a while, the tags in the palm of her hand and had fiddled with them, some reason reading over the embossed details again and again, her thumb tracing over the Imperial logo printed over the back of them before she’d slipped the tags around her neck and under her shirt and tried to ignore that fluttery feeling in her chest that seemed to be accompanying the heat rising in her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

He’d looked stunned, only for a brief moment, when he noticed the tags against her skin the next time they’d had some ‘properly alone time’ which owing to the nature of the ship was a rare luxury.   
“You’re wearing them.” He said it as a statement, as if he’s just said ‘The sky is blue’ but Tephernia could read him better than that and could pick up on the hints of confusion, amazement even.  
“Is that what you wanted?” She found herself picking the tags up and playing with the chain. She’d seldom taken them off since he’d given them to her a few years ago, she found there was something oddly comforting about how they felt against her skin.   
He shrugged, “You can do whatever you want with them, for all I care,”  
Tephernia crossed her arms, she fixed him a ‘I smell bantha droppings’ look but only briefly.   
“That’s not what I asked…”  Although she was softer saying that statement than she had been in the past.   
“I like that you’re wearing them,” He said simply, reaching out to brush a fingertip against the chain,  Tephernia finding her breath catching as he did so.   
“And you must care, a bit right?” She paused, “I mean, you’re not really one for sentiment… as I’m pretty sure otherwise you’d have chucked these in the incinerator the moment you got the new set….”   
He gave what came over as a non-committal ‘yeah’, sometimes he forgot just how damned good she was at working him out. Sometimes he swore she knew him better than himself.   
The he sighed,  
“Look… Spike, I just had an idea, and I sweated over it, silly right?”   
“No,”  
He gave out a snort that had attempted to turn into a laugh but had been stopped half way down his throat.   
“This… whatever it is, I like it okay? I mean I hope we have a good run at least, even if I keep feeling like I’m just going to cock everything up given half a chance…”  
She’d reached out, fingertips just grazing the scarred side of his face.   
“Pierce,” She’d half sighed. “Look, this…” She ran a thumb over the tags, “These… we can work out just what they mean, if anything later. We don’t need to do that now, alright?” She smiled, “But I will say, thank you, and I really like that you gave me your tags.”   
“Good…” He smiled briefly.  
“Good…” Tephernia’s expression shifted to a playful smirk, “Now…”  
She felt his hand against her back, tracing down her spine in that way that made her feel all… fluttery, “I think we were just about here...”

**Author's Note:**

> This is from an 'AU' timeline. Tephernia is a 'second generation' character (child of my Sith Warrior, Rayphara and Quinn). And so as a result timelines are shifted so that Pierce is recruited after a point post game rather than during the game. timeline. Tephernia is a member of a non-military Imperial organisation known as the 'Imperial Engineer Corps' and in the canon of this story has been assigned as a member upon her parents' ship.


End file.
